The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1887-03-12

BY GERALD GRIFFIN,
Author of 1.-The Collegians." etc.
CHAPTER X.-(Continued.
The recollection Of this occasion
completely unhinged the courage of the
unhappy wretch. He trembled vio-
lently, flung himself unconsciously on
his knees-struck his breast rapidly and
violently with his clenched fist-mut-
tered hurried snatch of the half-for-
gotten rosary and yet, by some strange
influence, amid all this agitation and re-
morse, the thought Of desisting from the
crime, which he meditated at that very
moment, scarcely once occurred to him.
Vague and general notions of an
amended life, not in any instance assum-
ing the vigor or sincerity Of 3 positive
intention, glanced across his spirit at in
tervals. while he busted himself in pre-
pairing his instruments, and examined
the door and windows Of the building.
The very security which seemed to at
tend this undertaking, the absence of all
human obstacle, the facility which the
loneliness of the place itself presented
the slight resistance which the door
seemed likely to oppose to his entrance,
all furnished him with matter for new
distrust. He paused before the build
ing with that feeling Of fearful suspicion
which chills the heart Of the bravest
soldier, when he finds position totally
silent and undefended where he expect
ed to meet with an opposition worthy of
it's importance.
The sullen dash of the waters behind
him began to boom upon his hearing,
like the sound of distant thunder. He
struck fercely at the lock of the door,
then started and trembled as the many
echoes of the blow came back upon him
from the rents and hollows of the cliff
and glyn, and again repeated the strokes
with double vehemence. At length,
ainging the hammer away, he slept a
few PAGES back, then dashing himself
furiously against it, he sent it crashing
round upon it's hinges.
We dare not follow the sacrilegious
wretch through all the detail of his i'm
pieties in the interior of the building.
The whole proceeding, from this mo-
ment, was one of such absolute delirium,
that he could hardly be said to have
acted it with consciousness. He rushed
to the recess in which the object OF his
search-the silver chalice or ciboreum
was kept, forced it open, flung himself
on his knees once more, clasped his
hands, Frustrated himself on the earth,
started to his feet, snatched the sacred
vessel, dashed the contents, the sight of
which almost maddened him, upor the
altar-and fed in an abandonment of ut
ter fear along the aisle, painting heavily,
crossing himself, and striking his breast,
and muttering prayers and curses blend
ed-while his sight swan and wandered
wildly over the place, his ears seemed to
ring with the din of mingled thunders,
hymns and laughter; fakes of whitish
light darted with throbs of anguish from
his eyeballs; the air about him grew hot
and suffocating; the darkening vault of
the night seemed to press with a horrid
weight upon his brain; and his conscience
rising like Il buried giant. from beneath
the mountains of crime he had cast upon
it, revealed, and almost realized the Pan
demouium which his sighted, though
unforgotten faith had pointed out to
him, with warning finger in his days
Of early innocence.